Pureblooded Immortality (Zelohera Book One)
by Skarlon Zelohera
Summary: Taking place during the events of TES:5 Skyrim, A Redguard woman, Zelohera's journal speaks of her first year she spent in Skyrim, during which she escaped her own execution, defeated giants and bandits, and put her own landmark on the landscape. Rated M for gore described in later chapters. Chapter updates may take long periods of time.


Tirdas, 1:28pm, 29th of Morning Star, 4E 202.

I've been in Skyrim now for over a year, and while it has been an eventful year, I have not yet recorded what has occurred. I shall attempt to quickly recap the events of 4E 201, as my first entry in this journal. To begin, I entered the Northern Province of Tamriel, Skyrim, at the beginning of the year. I had been travelling as an apprentice in conjuration, hoping to reach the college of Winterhold, as I had already been rejected from the university in the Imperial City in Cyrodil. It was on the road that I was caught in the crossfire of a small battle. I did not manage to move away however, as I was struck unconscious before I could. The next thing I knew, my hands were tied, and I was sat in the back of a carriage, my robes gone, dressed in tattered cloth and moving away from a pile of burning bodies. Amongst them, my own horse.

I was not on this carriage alone. From the two fellow prisoners that spoke (there was one who was gagged) I learned that I had wandered into an ambush from the Empire against a rebel group, known as the stormcloaks, and I had been assumed to be one of these rebels. I was not the only one to be caught in this crossfire. One of the men on the carriage had stolen a horse and was escaping to Hammerfell, but he too, had wandered into the ambush. We were taken to Helgen, An imperial town surrounded by stone walls. Lined up one by one, we were taken from the carriage, towards a small courtyard, with a chopping block and basket already set up. The horse thief attempted to make a run for it. It didn't go well for him. The leader of the Imperial legion set up in Skyrim, General Tullius, confronted the leader of the Stormcloaks, who had been captured with us. From what I learned here, he had murdered the "High King" of Skyrim, the highest rank of leader in their government. What confused me at this time was how he described the method of Kill. "Shouting". How can one be killed by shouting? Was the Question in my mind.

Of course, I somehow survived this execution, and it was a bizarre saviour that came to our rescue. A strange noise was the first thing that we heard, coming from the sky. At the point before I was put to me knees and my head rested on the block, I could have sworn I saw a wing skim through the clouds above. A large wing. Larger than any bird. In the next few moments I was sure I was both the luckiest and unluckiest woman in Tamriel. I was saved from an execution at the last moment, by a creature of legend. A dragon. For a brief moment, it covered the sky above, and was as black as night. Panic erupted. There were arrows flying and fires scorching the ground and buildings, turning soldiers to cinders and innocents to ashes. Screams rang in the air, and an inhumanly deep voice spoke the loudest, inhuman language. Before I could even look to see the source, I was pulled forward by one of the men from the carriage, I believe his name was Ralof, but I may not remember correctly.

He pulled me from the courtyard into a tower, and the rest is a blur to my memory. I remember leaping out of the tower into the inn below, and running with an imperial soldier into a keep, which took us below the ground, and through many stormcloaks that stood in our way of escape. We eventually burst out into the open air, and saw the dragon fly overhead, away from the burning town. I found his name, Hadvar, and he and I made our way downhill towards Riverwood, a nearby village. On the way I at least found some solace in praying briefly at the mage stone. Upon Reaching Riverwood, I managed to convince a relative of Hadvar's to allow me to stay for the night. In the morning, we returned to the burning ruins of Helgen, and found that we indeed were the only survivors. From my previous statement, I would then have believed I was the luckiest woman in Tamriel. An outside viewer of the events to come would say I was not.


End file.
